


Thunder in Our Hearts

by Babooshka



Series: Thunder in Our Hearts [1]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Universe - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babooshka/pseuds/Babooshka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asphodel, the young princess of Alfheim, is betrothed to the handsome yet arrogant Prince Thor of Asgard, their union to bind the alliance of their realms in blood. Sweet and shy, Asphodel quickly finds that she is ill-suited for the swaggering and cocksure Aesir prince who desires war and glory more than a bride. Bound to the oaths they made, Asphodel and Thor must learn to love and respect one another as husband and wife if they are to weather the storms that await them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunder in Our Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after taking too long of a time writing this I have finally gotten round to posting my first work. It's just a little something I came up with and I hope you enjoy reading it, I certainly had fun writing it.

To be born a princess was a sad thing.   
  
For princesses had their lives mapped out for them, their stars already aligned before they could even walk nor talk. When she was young, Asphodel liked to watch the peasant children, secretly longing to be among them. Bare-footed and free, the children would laugh and play in the water gardens of the palace. She liked to dream being down there, wet and shrieking whilst her friends splashed and paddled besides her. Yet she was a princess, too highborn and noble to associate with the common rabble her mother would haughtily say.   
  
Asphodel sat on her balcony, abandoning her studies to watch the children play with envious eyes. She was too old now to play in the pools, more woman than girl, but the sultry summer heat made her sweat and long for the coolness of the fountains. Sighing, she leant back into the chair, fanning herself idly.  
  
"Asphodel do not slouch, your posture is already something to be desired." Her mother chided from behind her, shoes tapping rhythmically against the marble floor.  
  
Queen Elthina was tall and slender. She was elegantly poised and precise; her practiced gait something Asphodel could only aspire to imitate in dancing mockery. She was a true highborn woman.  
  
"Yes, mother, sorry." Asphodel said, sitting up straight with a rolling of her eyes.  
  
Her mother regarded her critically, sharp eyes raking over her. Queen Elthina was praised and adored for her beauty across the Nine Realms, for it was known all Light Elves were fairer to look upon than the sun itself. Sometimes Asphodel felt the exception to the legend. She was not unpretty though, she rather liked the delicate curves of her cheekbones and the pansy-purple cast to her eyes, but paled in comparison to most of her kin. She was quite short without a proper woman's body. Too small her mother had scorned many times towards her breasts. Her narrow hips were slim and poor for childbirth, stomach too rounded and her hair was more silver than the favoured snow-white of her people.  
  
"Sweetling, I have great news for you," Queen Elthina smiled, taking the seat across from Asphodel. "You are to be wedded."  
  
Asphodel said nothing. She knew this day would have come eventually, it was her duty to marry some great man and give her husband even greater sons and heirs. She was born for this, even if she did not like it.  
  
“Who will be my intended?” Asphodel finally asked quietly.  
  
“Thor, Prince of Asgard and son of Odin," Queen Elthina beamed, obviously approving of the match. “They say he is brave and strong, very handsome too. Surely he will make a fine husband for you.”  
  
Asphodel sat unmoved. He was known to her, she had heard the fabled stories of him. Prince Thor, a powerful warrior who wielded a mighty, Dwarven-forged hammer which only beckoned to his command, lightning and thunder being his power. She had listened to tales of his strength in the battles during great feasts, how her people idolised the prince. He was renowned for these feats but she knew nothing of his character.  
  
"Why are you not more thrilled? From what I have heard he is a young girl's dream, beautiful long golden hair and bulging muscles." Queen Elthina chuckled lightly.  
  
"What of his nature? A handsome and valiant man he may be but what of his heart?" Asphodel said, "Without a good heart he will not make a good husband."  
  
"You will get your chance to decide his heart, my dear." Queen Elthina smiled. "You are to be married by the month’s end."  
  
"That soon?" Asphodel said, feeling vastly overwhelmed. It was moving much too fast for her. "When was this all decided too, why did you not tell me sooner?"  
  
"All these questions," Her mother sighed. "Sweetling, your father has been in talks with the Allfather for some time. An alliance has been forged between Alfheim and Asgard against the Dark Elves, your marriage to Thor unifying it in blood. Be happy, child, for you will be the Queen of Asgard one day and mother to its future."  
  
"When do I leave? Do I have a say in the matter?"  Asphodel spoke, her mother scowling at her in disapproval.  
  
"The Allfather and Queen Frigga wish you there soon; her majesty is especially pleased to meet you. Your father and I think it is best if you arrive as soon as possible too." Her mother said curtly.  
  
"What happens if I don't like him?" Asphodel said as her mother rose to leave.  
  
"Then learn to, my child. I did." Queen Elthina said coolly, leaving without another word.  
  
When her chamber doors locked shut, Asphodel wept. It may have been her duty but it did not mean she wanted to follow it. Her heart was sorrowed, her only wish to not be a princess now. She did not have the luxury to choose whom she loved and married like the common folk did. What would happen if there was no love between her and Thor, her heart cold towards him? She did not wish her marriage to be loveless like her parents, it plain to see the lack of warmth and affection between Queen Elthina and King Freyr when they were together. Their marriage had been one of convenience like her own would union would be. That was what frightened her the most.  
  
By the month's closing day, Asphodel's chambers were scattered with boxes and trunks filled with her possessions. Neatly stacked and organised by her handmaidens, they were ready to be taken away to her new home. Seeing them looming sent Asphodel's stomach swirling, fear and nerves making her feel ill in the depths of her belly. Today was when she would leave for Asgard, the storm in her stomach now an untamed tempest at her impending departure. Asphodel had hardly eaten her breakfast, picking at the berries and fruits indifferently. A great feast had been held in her honour the previous night, a grand gathering of all Alfheim’s nobility. Her countrymen had drank and danced in merry celebration of her departure, a roaring festivity to be remembered she had been assured. Asphodel had not been very merry though. In a few hours she would be meeting her intended for the first time and her mother had ordered she looked the part of the beautiful princess.  
  
Asphodel was swathed in a pale lilac gown, the wispy material shimmering and incredibly soft to touch, a perfect match to the colour of her eyes. It was loose and flowing, the highest couture of Alfheim fashion. Her hair had been washed and brushed diligently, a radiant silver shine to it. Her handmaidens had weaved it into an intricate braid, tiny multitudes of pearls being entwined into her locks. Moonstone-bejeweled rings and bracelets and bangles adorned her hands and arms, to be a statement of Alfheim's wealth. A necklace of thin chains gracefully hung around her neck. When the handmaiden's work had finished, Asphodel had hardly recognised herself in the mirror's reflection. She was not unhappy with what she saw.  
  
"My sweet, beautiful daughter," King Freyr had smiled when she had been brought to him. She would miss him terribly and his soft, funny smile that only she saw. Yet, today his smile was a sad ghost of one. "My little girl is to become a woman, how my heart weeps."  
  
"Father, I have not been a little girl in a long time." Asphodel said softly, her father placing a loving kiss against her forehead.  
  
"All daughters are little girls to their fathers." He said, words ringing with melancholy.  
  
"I will miss you so much." Asphodel managed, her voice breaking when tears threatened to run.  
  
"Shush, my sweet," King Freyr comforted, wiping a stray tear away with a soft swipe of his finger. “I will miss you too, more than you will ever know. But my heart will swell with joy knowing you will do me proud, your marriage to Prince Thor bringing with it a new age of peace and prosperity between Alfheim and Asgard."  
  
“And I shall be happy just knowing I will make you proud.” Asphodel said.  
  
"A man could not wish for a better daughter." King Freyr smiled sadly.  
  
"Beautiful, how splendid you look," Queen Elthina beamed with a clap as she entered the hall, satisfied that her directions had been followed to perfection."You are certain to enthral the prince."  
  
The queen was lovely as usual. A jeweled crown sparkled amidst her long white-blonde hair, its pale amethysts the perfect match for the violet of her eyes. She was standing in a gown that could only be described as exquisite. King Freyr looked bold and handsome in his ceremonial armour, body sheathed in shining obsidian.  
  
“I hope so.” Asphodel said uncertainly.  
  
“Prince Thor will be smitten or the man is a great fool.” Her father told her kindly.  
  
“Are you ready, sweetling?” Queen Elthina said, linking her arm with Asphodel.  
  
"Yes, mother." Asphodel lied with a false smile.  
  
As they walked the palace’s corridors, a grave realisation formed in Asphodel that made her heartsick. It would be the last time she would walk these halls, the last time she would probably see her home. She held onto her father’s hand tightly. She felt more so a prisoner walking to their execution than a princess. Asphodel did not concentrate much after that, mind fluttering with old memories surging through her. Her legs threatened to buckle, her throat and eyes aching as she suppressed wayward tears. They were in the main courtyard now, a retinue of guards and personnel surrounding them, her father beckoning to the sky in his booming voice. Then the Bifrost opened, a dazzling flash of ethereal light sending them whirling through the cosmos, hurtling towards Asgard at a lightning speed.


End file.
